


purr

by professortennant



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling, F/M, Fluff, nuzzling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 13:10:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12818223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professortennant/pseuds/professortennant
Summary: he hummed and hushed so that the sound reverberated through her chest, keeping Enjolras relaxed and soothed. Back and forth her hand swept, reveling in the thickness of his hair, the way the curls looked wrapped around her fingers and hand, and the way Enjolras was still asleep.And then she heard it, a soft, low rumbling. It was akin to the purring of a cat that had just received a thorough belly scratching.





	purr

She tried not to dwell on how they got here--naked, sated, and in his bed, half covered by a thin sheet and so wrapped up in one another, she wasn't sure where she began and he ended. It was a hard road, filled with a lot of anger and sadness (such small words for such sizable obstacles). 

But here they were, nonetheless. It was disgustingly picturesque: the sun gently filtering in through the half-open window, warming their bodies and their bed. His legs were entangled with her own and his arm wrapped firmly around her waist. His head was pillowed on her bare breast and shoulder, his soft exhalations puffs on her skin. 

She had been awake for a few moments. It was so rare that she woke before him. He still suffered nightmares, the names of his fallen brothers on his lips. She took a moment to observe him now, relaxed and content in sleep. Her finger traced his brow, featherlight and reverent. His skin was soft and smooth, the occasional freckle peppering the bridge of his nose and just underneath his eyes. Her thumb gently brushed back and forth--once, twice--over his bottom lip and he shifted in his sleep, tongue flicking out unconsciously over the pad of her thumb.

She grinned and bit her lip, wondering if she could get away with it now while he was asleep.

It was the funniest thing to be self-conscious of, really. In all the time they'd been together, he'd never once let her touch his hair unless they were well on their way to the bed, in which case he welcomed her hands fisted in his hair, tugging lightly (okay, maybe a bit more than lightly...)

Other than that, he refused her affectionate touches anywhere near his hair--no gentle ruffles, no fingers carded through his hair, no affectionate petting.

But now? Under the cover of sleep, she felt confident in her fingers' ability to get away with her crime...

Her hand tentatively reached up to brush against an errant curl on his forehead. Enjolras only sighed and nestled in closer to her warmth, his arm tightening on her waist. Eponine breathed easy and let her fingers trail further upwards into the lushness of his hair, nails scraping just lightly against his scalp. 

She hummed and hushed so that the sound reverberated through her chest, keeping Enjolras relaxed and soothed. Back and forth her hand swept, reveling in the thickness of his hair, the way the curls looked wrapped around her fingers and hand, and the way Enjolras was still asleep. 

And then she heard it, a soft, low rumbling. It was akin to the purring of a cat that had just received a thorough belly scratching. She froze, afraid Enjolras was waking. 

And then she felt it. His head pushing up into her hand and his voice echoing off her skin, lips brushing her bare skin, "Don't stop."

She looked down and met his eyes, open and relaxed and stupidly content. He yawned and pushed his head against her hand again. 

"You might as well keep going. No need to be shy now that you've been caught."

Eponine smiled and began moving her hand back and forth once more, petting and stroking his hair. As soon as her hand began its quest through his hair, Enjolras started up once more--a low, pleased purr.

She bit her lip to keep from giggling, "Are you purring?"

He grumbled and propped himself up on one elbow so that Eponine was beneath him, her hand still in his hair but off to the side so that she was cupping his face now. 

"First," he leaned down to press a quick kiss against her mouth. "Good morning. Secondly, I might have a sensitive scalp."

Eponine couldn't help it. A giggle escaped and Enjolras' eyes narrowed.

"It's a legitimiate thing! Why do you think Gra--" He stopped and swallowed hard. Eponine's hand pushed up a little on his cheek, offering comfort and assurance. He smiled and turned his head, pressing a brief kiss to the centre of her palm. Although it had been many months since the passing of his friend, it was still difficult to say his name. Eponine knew the bond he shared with Grantaire would be one she would never understand.

"Why do you think Grantaire constantly tried to keep ruffling my hair? I have a tendency to, well...."

"Purr," Eponine offered, smiling.

He sighed and dropped back to his original position, his head resting on her shoulder and his arm around her waist. "Well, now you know. Just keep it between us."

Eponine bent her head to press a kiss to the crown of his head. "Of course."

A beat of silence passed before Enjolras' larger hand reached blindly up, looking for Eponine's. Finding it, he grabbed it and placed it back on his head.

"Well, now that you know, don't stop. Feels nice."


End file.
